Celestial Hetalia
by Quiet Harmony-chan
Summary: The world was once ruled by three gods in a peaceful time. Now they are at war and their finest warriors fight for them leaving a trail of blood and devastation as they walk.


Francis clung to his mother's rippiling blue skirts as they climbed up the monastary's cold, stone steps. It was a pleasant morning that still had the breath of dew on the grounda nd birds trying to catch worms, but in Francis's heart there was something wrong with this whole scenario, mostly with the fact that they were climbing the stairs. Today wasn't a holy day, one set aside for worshiping the life godess, it was a normal Tuesday, a market day. Why they were outside their seaside village to come to this scary place was beyond the thinking of the six year old.

"Mamma." Francis tugged on his mother's skirt. "Are we going to see a miracle?" He asked with wide blue eyes.

Maria, his mother, looked down at him with a sad smile."Of a sort." She said quietly.

It was interesting on how a child's innocence could bend people into not saying what should be said. But that was the way of the world, parents must sheild their children from the horor that awaited them once that blanket of innocence was ripped away.

Francis oh'ed and struggled to climb the last of the seventy-nine stairs of the building.

**...**

Once they got to the top they were greeted by two preists in the traditional robe of the rose order. It was white and homemade with red on the hems, sleeves, and hood. They bowed their heads when they approched and steped aside so they could enter through the thick green curtain of the monastary.

The inside of the building always took Francis's breath away. It had a high vaulted ceiling with the pianting of a lovely woman holding a boquet of twelve flowers, the walls were plain and made of stone as was the floor but the pews were made of a dark wood that was laways polished to perfection. The most glorious thing in the room though was the Keeping Box. It was a long box made of precious wood that was six feet long and two feet wide, it had a gold rose screwed to it and a silver lock. It was one of the few items in the entire village that had any precious metal on it.

Today the monastary was empty except for the few preists that lived there and a few people who needed healing, most everyone was at the market or busy working on their trade, if a miracle was to be worked wouldn't everyone come to see it?

Francis held tighter to his mother's skirt as they went up to the Keeping Box. The high preistess sat their reading from an ancient scroll, ocassionaly humming from deep in her chest. When she finally noticed the pair's pressence she looked up with an irritated scowl.

"You're twenty hours late." She hissed. "We only have four hours to get this done now."

Maria bowed her head apollogetically. "I'm sorry but my youngest son was sick." She said meekly.

The priestess humphed and stood up showing her true regality. Unlike the other preists she wore a robe of pure red that had a dark green hem and a crown of silver. She held her hand out to Francis.

"Come along child, you have been awaited for a long time."

Francis looked at the lady with distrusting eyes, but his mother nudged him forward. "You'll be okay dear." She cooed.

Francis took the woman's hand and was led away from his mother. He looked back at her and frowned when he saw her sobbing on the floor. With a harsh tug he was led away, tears coming from his own eyes.

**...**

Francis screamed as he was tied to a stone slab. The priests around him seemed to be unaware of what was happening to him as they started a fire and brought out a knife, it had a rose hilt and words inscribed on the blade. The boy paled and shut his eyes, he knew what was happening, the whole village had horror stories on the ritual.

The first slice into his skin caused him to scream, the second to ask for mercy, the third to unleash curses that was inappropiate for such a young child. The pain lasted for hours as each slice of the sacred knife was torn into his body, leaving it numb and empty.

In his time of pain he began to hallucinate. He saw a beautiful woman with dark hair that went to her hips and pale skin that was set with poison green eyes. She laughed and danced around a fire, ocassionally clapping her hands and shouting something into the midnight skies. Francis reached out a hand to her which she seemed to igonre for a time. It wasn't until she tripped over her own feet. Tears gather into her eyes and she crawled over to him.

"Hello little one." She whispered in a hoarse voice.

Francis just stared at her. There was something off about her entire demeanor.

"Oh you don't trust me." She giggled. "Well I wouldn't trust me either."

She stood up and flounced her blue dress. "And to think I was going to help you."

Francis narrowed his eyes. "I don't need help." His body shuddered and he screamed when the bone was cut.

"Of course you don't." She dead panned. "Well I'm going to help you anyway. You're my favorite after all." She came close to him and kissed his cheek. "I'll give you the best chance you have at surviving this...A small one."

And with that she skipped away.

**...**

**A/N: So if you're wondering what this even is...Well its a suprise. I hope you all like it!**


End file.
